


Just the One, Two

by evanelric



Series: Shimadacest Week 2K17 [1]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Yakuza, Comfort, Domestic, Emotional Constipation, Feelings Realization, First Kiss, Genji Shimada is a Little Shit, M/M, Minor Original Character(s), Personal Growth, Power Exchange, Shimadacest Week, Sibling Incest, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-01
Updated: 2017-01-01
Packaged: 2018-09-12 05:03:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,533
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9056494
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/evanelric/pseuds/evanelric
Summary: Genji crosses his arms and leans against the door frame again, certain this argument is going to end like it has every other time, with Hanzo urging him to be more responsible, and Genji vowing to take it into consideration and inevitably changing nothing. Time to try pushing him out of the nest.
“Alright, then. You can be the elder brother for a while. I’m done cleaning up your messes, anija.”





	

**Author's Note:**

> For Day 1 of Shimadacest Week: Forgiveness / Reconciliation

Hanzo walks into the apartment only to trip over Genji’s shoes for the third time that day. He catches himself on the wall, nearly overbalanced by the weight of his messenger bag, and toes off his own shoes before stepping up from the foyer. He follows the nearly deafening sound of adrenaline-inducing orchestral music and aggressive grunts and battle-cries to see Genji sprawled indolently across the couch, intent on the game on the massive screen in front of him. His jacket and shirt are strewn across the back of it and a pile of books spill haphazardly into the walkway. Hanzo feels his eyebrow twitch involuntarily. 

The table (and the floor, and, yes, the sofa itself) are littered with empty snack packages, bits of food, and empty drink cans. Hanzo lets his bag fall to the floor with a thud that is barely discernible over the game, and even then it’s more because of the vibration of the impact than the actual sound. Genji flinches, but only in response to his character being flung across the screen. He hunches over the controller, no doubt to execute a devastating combo in retribution, but Hanzo leans over the couch and plucks the controller neatly from Genji’s unsuspecting grip, deftly navigating to the console menu and turning it off as Genji’s character is punched into oblivion.

Genji is still sitting there, hands cupped as if around the confiscated controller, staring at the screen with a look of abject horror. Hanzo has tossed the controller onto the couch (or more accurately, onto, or perhaps into, some sort of wrapper from the sound of it), picked up his bag, and is halfway down the hallway to his bedroom before Genji’s irate screech pierces the sudden ringing silence.

“What the _fuck_ , anjia??? That was the final boss!”

Hanzo continues walking, turning into his bedroom and putting his bag on the desk to unpack the homework he was assigned today. The problem sets aren’t due until next week, but he’s also got a 20-page paper on the Meiji Restoration due the same day, and a 4-hour Game Theory exam on Friday. He’ll work on them after Genji yells a bit more and storms off to the arcade. This is a pattern Hanzo has grown accustomed to, but that doesn’t make him resent it any less.

As expected, he hears the thump of Genji vaulting the back of the couch and storming down the hallway. He sighs and straightens his tablet on the blotter, turns to the doorway, crosses his arms, and leans one hip on his desk just as Genji thuds his shoulder against the doorframe to lean and cross his own arms, every inch of his body oozing petulance.

“What’d I forget _this time_ , anija?”

“I’ve tripped over your shoes three times today.”

Genji continues to stare at him, knowing Hanzo wouldn’t be so riled over something so trivial. He may have thrown Genji’s shoes at his head when this sort of thing happened before. Maybe. Once. Or four times. Hanzo lets out a slow breath. It’s not a sigh.

“I’ve also vacuumed out the couch twice this week in addition to Nishimura-san being here daily to clean.”

Genji’s index finger twitches. At least he didn’t spin it in a “go on” motion like he used to. Last time he’d done it Hanzo had almost broken the doorframe from slamming it shut too hard in Genji’s face .

“Not one, but three of your professors approached me today to say that you come to class only to turn in work and take exams.” Almost, but not quite, the crux of the problem. He’s beyond tired of cleaning up after Genji, literally and figuratively, even though it’s his own fault for spoiling him so thoroughly by doing it in the first place. Hanzo is hoping he won’t have to explain it, because he can’t think of a way to phrase it that won’t hurt his brother, but there is no dawning comprehension on Genji’s face. Even worse, Genji’s pout hardens further, and he turns so his spine rests on the frame. Hanzo is beginning to despair.

“Last time you yelled at me for not doing the work. Now I’m doing the work, and the grades are always fine when I get them back, so I don’t see what the problem is. It’s not my fault class is boring. I can teach myself everything just fine with the course materials.”

Hanzo resists the urge to sigh again, but he can feel the beginning of a headache forming behind his right eye.

“It’s not about you learning the material, Genji. It’s about going to class because it’s expected of you and it’s part of what university means. You wanted a chance to get away from clan business for a while, and the elders decided to humor you, with the caveat that you do it _properly_.”

Genji scoffs.

“They just used this as an excuse to get me out of their hair. At least now I’m doing something useful with my time instead of wasting it at the arcade or ‘slutting around’.” Genji crosses one ankle over the other, a sign that he is truly offended they think so little of him. Hanzo himself is stung by the reminder of how free his brother is with his affections, but brushes it aside as unimportant for now.

“If you don’t prove that you can do what is necessary with a task that you’ve requested they’ll never take you seriously.”

Genji turns in the doorway, uncrossing his arms and clenching his fists, eyes spitting fire.

“What’s to take seriously! I always get shit done, even if I don’t do it exactly the way they want me to. I’ve never fucked up a mission, I’m getting good grades, I don’t get into trouble in town. Why does it fucking matter?”

Hanzo resists the urge to rub his temples. It’s not the first time they’ve had this conversation, and it probably won’t be the last. Hanzo has tried for literally years now to impress upon Genji the importance of doing his duty by the clan and it clearly hasn’t worked. But, Hanzo suddenly realizes, Genji doesn’t really care about the clan as a whole. Well, he does, but in a vague, “necessary evil” sort of way. He doesn’t view duty as compellingly as Hanzo does. He cares about people. He cares about _Hanzo_.

Hanzo has always been the one everyone goes to to try and get Genji to do things, and always the only one who ever succeeded, aside from their parents. Hanzo has gotten so used to caring for Genji that he’s confused it with caring _about_ Genji. He’s always covered for him, indulged him, and in response Genji has always turned to him like a flower toward the sun. When Genji looks at him sometimes Hanzo is filled with so much warmth that he actually feels like he might be worthy of that level of adoration.

He wonders, though, if in making things so much simpler for Genji he hasn’t done both of them a disservice. It was fine to always pick up after his brother when they were children, but now that they’re older and they’re both expected to have more responsibilities it’s beginning to wear him down faster than he can recover from, and Genji hasn’t really changed very much at all from the carefree child Hanzo first began doting on.

And right now, Hanzo is tired. Tired of carrying all his duties and obligations and watching Genji be so blithe while Hanzo crumbles and shores himself back up because he has no other option. He loves Genji, and of course everything Hanzo does for him is born of that love, but he wishes that Genji could maybe pick up a little of the weight himself. He wants to see what Genji can be when he actually puts his mind to it, the things he can achieve when he strives for them. Maybe Hanzo can shift his focus and make Genji care about his obligations a bit more. It can’t hurt to try, at least.

“If I don’t prove that I can keep you on task then they’ll never take _me_ seriously either. It isn’t just a way to get you out of their hair for a while. They’re testing _both_ of us.”

Genji takes half a step back, as if evading a blow. His eyes are wide and his mouth is hanging slightly open, before his expression hardens with resolve.

“What do you mean _both of us_? How can they not know that you’ll do everything right by now? You always do what you’re supposed to, exactly by the book, and they fucking bend over backwards singing your praises. If I had a single credit for every time I heard them hold you up as a shining example of everything a Shimada should be I’d be richer than all those old fucks and the family accounts put together.” Genji is red-faced and bright-eyed with anger, practically spitting his words, but Hanzo knows the anger is out of offense that anyone would doubt Hanzo, not bitterness over the comparison.

“Even so, they believe that if I cannot even manage to get my own brother to do something he _asked for_ then I will be a poor leader for the clan.”

Genji rolls his eyes so exaggeratedly Hanzo feels the motion should be audible.

“Please. I’m not that hard to manage. I take care of myself and do my own shit. I just don’t do it how the fucking _elders_ think I should. But they think we should all be driving gas-powered cars with tires like it’s the aughts again. Their opinions aren’t really that high on my priority list.” Genji crosses his arms and leans against the doorframe again, certain this argument is going to end like it has every other time, with Hanzo urging him to be more responsible, and Genji vowing to take it into consideration and inevitably changing nothing. Time to try pushing him out of the nest.

“Alright, then. You can be the elder brother for a while. I’m done cleaning up your messes, _anija_.”

Hanzo holds back his pleased smirk at Genji’s gobsmacked expression long enough to push him just enough to make him stumble back a few steps so he can close and lock the door.

He slips in his earbuds and hits play just in time to cut off the sound of Genji pounding on his door.

Hanzo regrets not having thought of this strategy sooner. It seems obvious in hindsight.

###

Genji channels his confusion and frustration over not being able to finish the conversation with Hanzo into repeating his progress since the last time the game had autosaved, only to discover that beating the final boss with such a high score unlocked an even more challenging secret boss. That keeps him awake until the small hours of the morning, until his losses are due to fatigue and frustration rather than the game being difficult. Hanzo’s light is still been shining from under the bottom of the door, but by this point Genji has settled into a healthy sulk reinforced by his inability to beat the secret boss and he continues on to bed to maybe deal with it tomorrow, if Hanzo isn’t still being an ass about it.

He rolls out of bed the next day at the crack of noon, and when he emerges from the bathroom after performing his morning routine he’s conscious enough to realize Hanzo’s bedroom door is still closed, which is unusual during the day, but not so much that Genji pays it much attention. He pads out to the kitchen, scratching absently at his stomach, hoping the muted thumps and rustling he hears are Nishimura-san, and that he’ll be able to swindle some breakfast out of her as he does most weekdays.

When he rounds the corner to find Hanzo reclined on the couch with dirty dishes littering the coffee table, engrossed in a volume of manga, and Nishimura-san nowhere to be found, to say he is shocked would be a vast understatement. He stares dumbly for a long moment, until the quiet rustle of Hanzo turning a page (a second page?) jostles him from his stupor.

“Morning, anija.”

Hanzo doesn’t respond, seemingly immersed in reading. If it was anyone else, Genji would be loathe to interrupt, but the incongruity of the situation has him straining to find an explanation.

“Were classes cancelled today?”

Hanzo’s eyes continue moving, and only once he’s reaching to turn the page again does he answer, with a succinct “No.”

Genji studies Hanzo, trying to figure out why he’s on the couch reading manga when class is in session. He doesn’t actually know Hanzo’s schedule, though, so maybe he’s got enough of a gap between classes to have come home in between or something.

“Is everything okay?” he fishes, still hoping Hanzo will clear up this mystery.

The same repetition of pause and flip, only this time accompanied by a “Yes.”

“Anija... you’re not sick, are you?

"No, there's nothing wrong with me, _anija_." There’s the faintest hint of red across his cheekbones, and Genji wouldn't have noticed if he hadn't been searching Hanzo's face so intently. Fever? But he doesn’t really look ill, so much as incredibly annoyed, aside from the slight flush. But, then again, he rarely does until he needs to be hospitalized. Genji really doesn’t want to deal with a Hanzo who is that ill. He gets incredibly cranky and whiny and clingy, and while sometimes Genji finds it kind of adorable, he’s not really in a generous mood after last night. Especially if Hanzo is going to be a douchebag about the whole responsibility thing again.

Genji is at a loss. It’s not worth trying to figure out, though. Hanzo has never done anything without a reason or that would reflect poorly on himself or the clan, so Genji, while confused and honestly a little annoyed, isn’t actually worried.

For now, he’ll concentrate on cobbling together whatever breakfast he can with a minimal amount of effort. He can take care of himself, and so can Hanzo.

Afterward, Genji lounges around his room for a while, catching up on some manga, while waiting for Hanzo to clear out of the living room so he can try his hand at the secret boss again.

As night falls and Hanzo hasn’t moved from the couch for anything except the bathroom, Genji gives in to hunger and wanders into the kitchen again. As he goes through the living room he notices a pile of manga on the floor next to the end of the couch where Hanzo’s head is. It’s several volumes tall, and now that he can see the covers more clearly Genji realizes it’s _his_ manga. Genji peers over as he walks past, and sure enough there’s another towering pile on the floor in front of the couch, much more neatly stacked, that seems to be the remaining volumes.

Genji can’t remember the last time he’d seen Hanzo read a novel, let alone manga, yet here he is. He’s also mildly concerned that Hanzo was in his room at some point long enough to get all the books and haul them out here, but to be fair, Genji takes Hanzo’s things all the time without asking, so he shrugs it off.

The same dishes from earlier are on the coffee table, joined by a few more, and there’s a small pile of wrappers and empty bottles spilling from the table to the floor. Genji would think it was his mess from yesterday, if he hadn’t already seen it much cleaner this morning. The last time he saw Hanzo with a mess was when he was struck down with a horrible flu and literally bedridden. Even then, the mess had been cleaned up promptly by Nishimura-san.

He walks slowly the rest of the way into the kitchen, thoughts of scrounging up dinner slowly being eroded by confusion over this latest turn of events. He absent-mindedly goes through the motions of preparing instant ramen, but by the time he’s done he’s chalked it up to Hanzo being Hanzo, and wanders back to his room to eat and nap, leaving Hanzo to his reading marathon.

###

The next day, strangely, proceeds much like the first, with the addition of Nishimura-san to the morning routine, and thus an improvement in the state of Genji’s dining situation. She helpfully leaves some thoroughly plastic-wrapped tuna-mayo onigiri in the fridge for later at Genji’s request.

When Genji wanders out that evening it doesn’t seem like Hanzo has moved from the couch, and the bulk of the manga has migrated to a sloppy pile scattering across the floor at the end of couch. On closer inspection, Hanzo isn’t even awake. He’s got a book propped open on his chest, and one hand is trailing on the floor.

Genji looks down at his brother, studying him to try and discern any sign of what might be troubling him, but he looks peaceful and relaxed in sleep. Genji has a sudden urge to brush the hair from his forehead and frowns. 

Hanzo is not someone who asks for help until after the point it becomes necessary, and Genji knows it will be useless to try and offer, even if Hanzo wasn’t probably still angry with him after their confrontation the night before last. But clearly there’s something wrong with Hanzo, because he’s _never_ like this, and Genji is still a human being who loves his brother and is capable of basic decency. He puts the manga on the table with the obi tucked in to save Hanzo’s page, pulls the throw off the back of the couch and drapes it over Hanzo, then gathers up the trash and dishes and puts it all in the kitchen.

He’s feeling pretty good about himself, until he opens the fridge to see the onigiri are gone and realizes the plastic wrap they were in was in the mess he just sorted into the trash. He lets his head loll back on his neck in resignation, then girds himself to sort through leftover takeout containers. He trashes half of them as biological hazards before he finds something he deems safe to eat and warms it up.

As he goes back to his room he notices that Hanzo has rolled onto his side and curled up, clutching one hand in the blanket. A lock of hair has fallen across his face, waving gently in and out with his breathing. Genji gazes at him for a long moment before giving in to his earlier urge, carefully catching the hair with his fingertips and tucking it up behind Hanzo’s ear.

He’s halfway to running the backs of his knuckles down Hanzo’s cheek when Hanzo shifts slightly, curling into himself further and almost colliding with Genji’s outstretched hand, letting out what Genji would swear is a little sigh of “ _anija_ ”. Genji freezes, before quietly stepping back around the couch and down the hallway, shutting himself in his room. He leans back against the door and lets his head fall against it, running his free hand down his face and taking a deep breath.

He’s not going to think about this.

###

By the following week, Genji is beginning to doubt both his sanity, and, more importantly, his brother’s claims that everything is fine. The apartment is in disarray. Not truly messy, because of the maid service, but things aren’t where they should be, and the refrigerator is empty except for condiments.

Hanzo has been home every weekday, either in his room with the door closed or lounging on the couch, beating Genji’s video games and unlocking achievements even Genji hadn’t gotten yet, or scrolling through new manga on his tablet after he’d exhausted the few old paperback series Genji owned. On the weekend, though, he mysteriously disappeared. When Genji caught him on his way out once and asked him where he was going, Hanzo had replied with a simple and unhelpful “Out.”

Hanzo hasn’t called him “anija” again, consciously or not, but Genji finds himself thinking about it whenever his mind wanders.

To escape the strain of the apartment he actually went to both his lecture and his recitation today, for maybe the third time all semester. Afterward he still isn’t ready to go back and deal with the vivid sense-memory of Hanzo’s hair sliding over his fingertips and the warmth of his face only centimeters away while a soft _anija_ winds it’s way into Genji’s ears and all the way to his core. Instead he opts to escape to the arcade for some stress relief in the form of the new bullet hell game they just got in.

He strolls in the door, intending to head straight over to the token machine and then claim a cabinet for himself, but Michiko-san, the elderly lady who often tends the arcade during the days, gestures him over to the counter. He saunters over and leans on the counter, throwing her a roguish grin.

“Good afternoon, Michiko-san! You’re looking as lovely as ever today. Have you finally decided to accept my pledge of undying love?” Michiko-san always saves him the best snacks, so it pays to stay on her good side, and flattering little old ladies has never been a hardship for Genji, especially when snacks hang in the balance.

She smiles and swats half-heartedly at him, used to his antics.

“Don’t let my husband hear that sort of talk, young man, or he’ll chase you right out of here, and then where will you laze about when you could be out doing something productive?” Her words are tempered by a mischievous smile, and Genji staggers back and clutches at his chest in response, bringing a hand up to his forehead and affecting a pained expression.

“Such foul accusations! You wound me, milady!” As expected, Michiko-san laughs at him, and Genji straightens, his grin lightening. “What can I do for you, Michiko-san?”

“Oh, I just wanted to let you know that your tab was close to maxed out, so I thought I’d let you know before you got too into your game. I know how much you’ve been looking forward to it.”

Genji’s smile freezes on his face, and it’s only long years of practice that keep it from fading. His tab has always been taken care of by the estate. Or so he’d thought.

“Is that so? Can I pay it off next time? I only brought enough for the game today to keep myself on a budget.” He scratches at the back of his head and laughs sheepishly, and as expected, Michiko-san is hopelessly charmed. The truth is that he doesn’t know either what the max is on his tab, or what he has available on his credit chip since his tab isn’t being payed off, and he’d rather not have it come up short.

Michiko-san pulls a tray out from under the counter and loads it up with about half of what he’d go through on a normal day at the arcade. Genji accepts it with both hands and bows his appreciation. “Thank you very much, Michiko-san. I’ll be sure to settle my debt the next time I come in.”

Genji carries his tray off, exchanges his credits for tokens, and plants himself at one of the new machines. He spends all his tokens, but barely finishes his snacks and only beats two levels. His plan had been to beat at least the first three stages this afternoon, which honestly wasn’t very ambitious given his normal skill level, but he’s troubled by the fact that his tab has run up. He takes care of his trash, thanks Michiko-san again, and tries to figure out what could have led to this as he exits the arcade.

He knew he had a running tab, but assumed it was handled by the clan, and that they paid it off periodically. If that was the case, though, it shouldn’t have run up this time. The elders will punish him occasionally by cutting off certain privileges, but half the punishment is sitting through the lecture and admonishments before being told exactly what he’s losing and for how long. Silently cutting him off isn’t their style.

But if the clan hasn’t been paying off his tab, that means someone else has, and the list of people who would do that is basically his father and Hanzo. He hasn’t done anything to merit his father’s disapproval, so that leaves Hanzo. It makes a certain amount of sense, except for all the parts where it doesn’t.

There’s so many little things that have fallen apart in Genji’s life lately, and, coupled with Hanzo’s unusual behavior, there are only so many conclusions Genji can come to. Occam’s razor demands the simplest explanation, and that’s that Hanzo has been responsible for countless small conveniences that Genji never even realized needed to be taken care of. On the one hand, he feels like shit for having to be taken care of so thoroughly and for being so ungrateful, even unknowingly. Maybe even more so _because_ it was unknowingly.

On the other hand, though, the frustration that had been slowly mounting all week with Hanzo’s out of character behavior (he decidedly turns his mind away when _anija_ and Hanzo’s face, relaxed in sleep, slide into his thoughts) and the increasing chaos of his day-to-day life are overshadowed by the warm, tight feeling in his chest that Hanzo was doing so much just to make Genji’s life simpler.

Genji’s been doing a few things here and there the last few days, but mostly out of self-preservation, not out of a desire to actually contribute. He looks at all the things that have somehow fallen to shit and realizes how much Hanzo does that he doesn’t have to, on top of all the bullshit the elders demand of him because he’s the heir. Who even knows if he has time to do shit he likes anymore. Genji realizes the answer is probably not, considering how out of character he’s seemed lately, when he’d finally taken some time to do what he wanted to, instead of attending to the various brotherly duties he’d assigned himself. Genji can only assume that he hasn’t let his coursework or clan duties slip far enough to be noticeable, since no one from the castle has come to drag them back in shame, but it’s enough.

Genji picks up his pace, the beginnings of a plan starting to come together in his mind.

###

When he gets back to the apartment he’s got bags on both arms, and has had an awkward phone conversation with one of the family accountants. Genji was correct in thinking Hanzo had been managing his funds, and the accountant was noticeably flustered by Genji taking over things and trying desperately not to show it. The thought makes him a little angrier with himself, that apparently him being spoiled is so expected that even this small amount of initiative can shake even one of the senior Shimada accountants, but he tries to find comfort in the fact that he’s stepping up now.

He toes his shoes off in the entryway, hauling his bags into the kitchen and glances over the counter to see Hanzo looking at him over the back of the couch with an expression that most people would think is mild annoyance, but that Genji knows is confusion. Genji smiles as he washes his hands in the sink before turning around to unload the bags onto the counter.

He’d have liked to have bought fresh ingredients and prepared something homemade for Hanzo, but just because he’s decided to be better doesn’t mean he’s suddenly turned into a house spouse. Instead, the bags are loaded with takeout. All things he knows Hanzo prefers, even if he pretends to be indifferent. Genji had gone to three different restaurants to assemble the meal and even has enough for leftovers tomorrow, and the smells of hot, delicious food are beginning to fill the apartment.

By the time Genji has unloaded the last bag and lined up the containers on the counter Hanzo has wandered to stand on the other side of the counter between the bar stools, glancing between them and Genji warily. Genji quenches the guilt again with the knowledge that he’s starting to fix things as he turns around and grabs dishes and silverware to set out with the food. He grins boyishly at Hanzo.

“I brought dinner!” he says brightly and entirely unnecessarily. Hanzo quirks an eyebrow at him.

“I can see that. Any particular reason?” Genji has been known to do such things as bribes, so he really shouldn’t be hurt that Hanzo is suspicious, but it stings in light of his recent realizations. Regardless, Genji sharpens his gaze, ready to assess the impact of his next words on Hanzo. He’s been doing a lot of thinking today, and he’s got a couple more suspicions he wants to test out.

“If I’m your anija then isn’t it my job to take care of you?”

And there it is, the indrawn breath, and flushed cheeks, and barely discernible dilation of Hanzo’s pupils before he responds.

“I suppose that’s true… anija.” The word is spoken haltingly, nowhere near as confidently as Hanzo had flung it out the first time, as if he’s only now truly grasping the weight of it. Hanzo drops his gaze, and his grip on the back of the sofa tightens almost imperceptibly.

Genji wants to smile, wide and sly and triumphant, but that would give it away, and he’s not even sure Hanzo knows they’re playing yet. Hanzo is many things, and one of them seems to be at least a little in lust with Genji, but he’s not stupid enough to hand anyone a known weakness, even Genji. Considering Genji _is_ the weakness, perhaps especially not him. If Hanzo was aware of his attraction he wouldn’t have started this whole anija-swap joke in the first place. Instead, he smiles gently at Hanzo.

“Wash your hands, then, and we’ll eat together.” Genji smiles encouragingly, because Hanzo still looks a little dazed, and sets the plates and silverware by the bar stools on the other side of the counter before he begins opening the containers up as Hanzo comes back to sit down.

Genji realizes he’s unconsciously stalling for Hanzo, and also that, as the “older brother,” he needs to begin the meal instead. It hits him suddenly that he has a lot of adjustments to make, but if it makes Hanzo’s life happier and even a little easier it’ll be worth it. If it makes Hanzo as happy as Genji thinks it will, though, “worth it” will be the biggest understatement of his life.

###

If life were a story, Genji thinks, he would’ve woken up this morning knowing how to fix all his problems, or at least run into convenient solutions throughout the day. Instead, he attended both his classes, stopped by the arcade to pay off his tab with Michiko-san, and headed home to the apartment. Hanzo’s shoes aren’t in the entryway when he gets there, so Genji assumes he’s in class.

He puts his bookbag away in his room and sets about tidying up the apartment, switching around various odds and ends until everything is not just clean and tidy, but also in its proper place. Genji had registered that everything had a designated place before, because he’s been raised a Shimada, but he also hadn’t particularly paid attention to making sure they always got there when he was done with them. He’d always assumed the maids did it, but apparently Hanzo has a particular system he favors for everything (including making sure the toothpaste is always squeezed from the end of the tube and not the middle, and that the toilet paper has the loose end facing out).

Genji sets everything to rights, then sits down at the desk in his room and actually works on his homework, until he hears the front door open and close, and wanders out to greet his brother and test his theory again.

“Welcome home, Hanzo!” Genji has caught him in the middle of stepping up onto the floor, so he’s graced with the rare sight of Hanzo almost stumbling and having to catch himself on the wall as he stares wide-eyed and red-cheeked. To be fair, he’s loaded down with a huge pile of actual books, as well as his customary messenger bag, so Genji moves forward to take some of the burden and give Hanzo a moment to recompose himself as he carries them to his brother’s room. Genji doesn’t think he’s ever actually called Hanzo by his name before in his life, but if this is the reaction he’s going to get it’s about to become the only thing he calls him, at least in private.

He’s a few steps a way when Hanzo’s voice carries up to him, a bit stronger than last night.

“I’m home, anija.”

The warmth blooms again in Genji’s chest and lower, but he sets it aside for now. If Hanzo wants an older brother then Genji is gonna older brother the shit out of him. He sets the books on Hanzo’s desk and turns, leaving enough space beside him for Hanzo to put his bag down as well, but pointedly not leaving. Hanzo does so reluctantly, and Genji recognizes his own mannerisms when he’s let Hanzo down. Maybe he’d been too optimistic about Hanzo taking care of himself the past week.

“So what’s with all the historical artifacts, Hanzo?” The name almost rolls naturally off his tongue this time, but he still sees a shiver trail down his brother’s spine when he says it. There’s no way Hanzo hasn’t figured himself out by now, but he also hasn’t told Genji to stop, so he figures at least this much is fine.

“Just… just some schoolwork. There’s some work I missed, so I have to make it up.” Hanzo’s usual impassive facade is nowhere to be found, and Genji can read the tension and frustration in the lines of his body, as if he’s bracing himself for a reprimand. Genji had grossly underestimated just how much Hanzo had let slide in the last week and a half, it seems. He frowns and crosses his arms.

“If you missed work, it means you missed class. Did you go at all last week? How much work do you have to do?”

Hanzo cocks his chin a little defiantly.

“I told them I was sick, and I missed turning in a paper and two problem sets yesterday, but the professors gave me an extension. I got all the notes from classmates.”

Honestly, that’s more than Genji would have bothered with if he’d missed class. Has bothered with. Whatever. So Hanzo clearly isn’t just doing all the shit that Genji does to him. He’s still _Hanzo_. The knowledge settles something in Genji he hadn’t realised was wary. They’re still them. Just, the dynamic is shifting a little. They should probably hash it out at some point, but Hanzo clearly has a shit ton of work to do, and with his previously “free” time now taken up by class, Genji is going to have to put his nose to the grindstone as well, so he decides to table it for later. Over the weekend, hopefully, as long as they make it through tonight and tomorrow without this blowing up or imploding in their faces.

That decided, Genji pulls himself upright and claps a hand on Hanzo’s shoulder, giving him a small grin.

“Alright, Hanzo. You get started. I’ll come get you when dinner's ready. Holler if you need help with anything.”

Hanzo doesn’t react visibly to his name this time, just throws Genji a small smile and a “Thanks, anija,” as he sits at his desk and opens his bag.

Genji goes back to his own room, checks the time and sets an alarm on his phone for dinner, before he pulls his tablet toward himself and dives into his own schoolwork.

Dinner goes much like the night before, with Genji reheating and setting everything out before calling Hanzo. Genji half wants to talk, but also doesn’t want to dive into anything heavy, like what the fuck they’re doing, with only one day before the weekend, so instead he stays silent until they finish. Hanzo thanks him for the meal and wanders back to his room while Genji rinses everything and sets it in the sink for Nishimura-san to take care of in the morning.

Once back in his own room he again sets an alarm for later and studies until it goes off, when he takes in a snack to Hanzo, who seems flustered but grateful. It’s not a thing Hanzo would have done, but Genji isn’t Hanzo, and he’s not going to try to be. He just hopes Hanzo notices too.

###

For all that Genji had never intended to go to class when it could be avoided, he was also smart enough to not choose any that met on Friday, so by the time he rolls out of his bed Hanzo is out, presumably at school.

Genji gets himself breakfast and sits down to (finally) beat the secret boss, and finds himself somehow whizzing through it on his first time, only to realize that Hanzo has already beaten it when the achievement fails to pop. Before this week he’d have been annoyed, but instead he’s just amused. He restarts the game on the next difficulty up, and makes it about halfway through the first level when Hanzo comes home.

Genji pauses his game and says hello, turning to kneel on the couch, leaning on the back with both arms. Hanzo looks exhausted, which is saying a lot when Genji’s seen him run for 3 days on naps totaling 3 hours of sleep. His hair isn’t even tied back. When Genji follows the descent of Hanzo’s jacket to the floor he notices vaguely that one of Hanzo’s shoes is propped half on the other one, and he’s left his bag just inside the entryway.

Genji vaults the sofa and walks up to him, half-afraid he’s going to collapse. Instead, when he gets within touching distance Hanzo drops his head to Genji’s shoulder and fists his hands in the sides of Genji’s shirt. Genji’s arms are half up, but he’s not sure what to do. Obviously in a normal situation he’d put his arms around someone who he thought was into him, who he was into too, who was clearly seeking comfort, but his brain catches on the fact that this is _Hanzo_ , and Hanzo doesn’t do things like this.

“I’m home, anija.” Hanzo tugs his shirt a little, turns his face and presses his forehead into the side of Genji’s neck. Genji wraps his arms around Hanzo and tugs him closer, and Hanzo melts against him. They stand there for a moment until Hanzo straightens, and Genji catches his chin in one hand and looks in his eyes.

“What was that for? Are you okay?” The bruises under Hanzo’s eyes are stark this close, and he’s even paler than usual. He’s also not meeting Genji’s eyes.

“I stayed up all night studying for a test.”

Genji groans and runs a hand through Hanzo’s hair, cradling his head.

“You know that’s not good for you, right?” Hanzo bobs his head in a single nod, still not looking at Genji. Genji pulls him in for another quick hug, probably taking advantage of Hanzo’s fatigue, before gently directing him down the hall. Hanzo slowly shuffles along the floor, out of exhaustion or reluctance Genji isn’t sure, but as long as Hanzo gets some sleep he doesn’t really care. Genji stays just behind him with a hand on the small of his back, still not sure his brother is entirely steady on his feet. They make it to his room without incident, and Hanzo is too tired to do anything but crawl into bed fully clothed. Genji pulls the sheet and blanket up over Hanzo’s shoulder as he curls up on his side, before gently sweeping his hair back from his face. Hanzo’s eyes are already half-closed, so Genji adjusts the blankets once more before he backs out of the room.

“Sleep well, Hanzo. I’ll come and wake you for dinner.”

Hanzo barely manages a grunt in response, and Genji turns off the light and pulls the door closed. He goes back to the couch, turning the volume down to the lowest he can and still be able to hear the audio cues, and finishes his level before he goes to check on Hanzo and put his bag in his room. He knocks softly, just in case he’s not actually asleep, and when there’s no response he opens the door a crack and peeks in to see Hanzo burritoed in his blankets and curled into a ball at the same time.

He doesn’t even flinch when Genji opens the door, which means he was even more tired than Genji had initially thought, and he rethinks his plan of waking Hanzo for dinner. After what was probably just as stressful a week for Hanzo as it was for him, then a day of being in lectures and getting lectured by his professors, pulling an all-nighter, and taking what was undoubtedly a brutal exam considering Hanzo’s double econ/math major, he probably needs the rest. Genji carefully sets the bag on the floor just to the side of the doorway and pulls the door closed, turning the knob so the latch doesn’t click, before letting it slide home and creeping back down the hall.

He beats his game all the way through again, including the secret boss, and realizes he never ate, so he grabs something quickly before checking on Hanzo again, who hasn’t so much as moved. Genji smiles helplessly a little bit, closes the door, and goes to bed himself.

###

Genji wakes up surprisingly early, considering his normal habits, and manages to catch Nishimura-san and Hanzo chatting over the counter as she prepares breakfast. They all exchange greetings, and Genji and Hanzo eat silently as she washes the cookware and gently chides them to rinse their dishes and put them in the sink when they’re done before bustling off to whatever it is she spends the rest of her time doing. A week ago Genji wouldn’t have cared, but now he finds himself constantly picking up on things he’s been taking for granted, and just as constantly reminding himself that he can’t change everything overnight.

And speaking of overnight, he’s past ready to have a conversation with his brother, which he’s looking forward to and dreading at the same time. He’s got enough faith in his ability to read people, and Hanzo in particular, to be sure he’s not wrong that Hanzo is sincere in his desire for Genji to take on the role of being the elder brother, and also that Hanzo wants something more than just an older brother. What he’s less sure of is if Hanzo is willing to admit that to himself, or rather, to allow himself to have it.

Hanzo has always been driven more by duty and appearances than Genji for no reason he’s ever been able to fathom, but had accepted nonetheless. Trading places when it’s just the two of them will be a weakness, but a relatively minor one that Genji is sure will be on offer, and that he will take up gladly. The chance to be more, though, to be lovers as well… He wants it so badly, and he knows that Hanzo likely wouldn’t have let as much slip as he had if he didn’t want it too.

Even so, Genji is nervous about the conversation and what it will mean for them. Genji is relatively sure they’ll come out of this a lot closer than they have been, but trying to have a serious conversation with Hanzo about anything personal is like pulling teeth, and this is one conversation Genji absolutely doesn’t want to play the anija card in. If this is going to work between them then they need to approach it as equals.

He paces his eating so he finishes at the same time as Hanzo, grabbing both of their plates and dropping them in the sink after a cursory splash from the tap. To his surprise, Hanzo is still sitting at the counter, head propped on his chin, staring at him. Genji leans back against the sink, waiting for Hanzo to say whatever is on his mind. He would’ve pushed before, tried to provoke him with a joke, maybe, but maybe that’s part of why he feels like Hanzo is so hard to talk to.

“You… like it. When I call you anija.” Hanzo is trying to keep up his mask of impassivity, but he’s peeled it back for Genji too much lately and the edges don’t fit quite right anymore, and his face is blazing scarlet across his nose and cheekbones. Genji smiles, a little helplessly.

“About as much as you like to call me anija.” Hanzo smiles a little now too, even though his gaze drops to the counter, and Genji lets a little flicker of hope flare in himself that maybe this won’t be as difficult as he’d thought. Hanzo’s expression twists up after a moment, though, and Genji can tell he’s clasping his hands in his lap, trying not to wring them more obviously.

“We can’t, though. Out there. I have to be. I’m not.” Hanzo cuts himself off, frustrated with his inability to articulate his feelings, and Genji steps over to put his fingertips on Hanzo’s jaw from across the counter. He’s trying, so hard, and Genji loves him a little for this. For a lot of other things too, but for trying to do something that puts him so out of his depth, so counter to everything he was taught to value. For that especially.

“Hey.” Genji presses lightly at Hanzo’s jaw, asking for his attention, but not forcing it, and when Hanzo meets his eyes again Genji smiles, a small thing he barely feels on his face but that pulls and tugs all through his chest until he feels it might burst from the feeling. Hanzo’s putting himself out there for this, and it’s only fair that Genji do so in turn. “Out there, you’re Shimada Hanzo, first born son and heir to the Shimada clan. I get that. You know that’s not me. But in here, when it’s just us, when it’s just Hanzo and Genji, if you want me to be your anija, I would be honored to.”

Hanzo closes his eyes, and the air grows heavy and Genji nearly withdraws his hand. Maybe Hanzo isn’t ready for this now that the haze of sleep deprivation has cleared. Maybe Genji has misjudged, and he's trying to let him down easily. But Hanzo angles his head slightly, pressing against Genji’s fingertips, and Genji knows he's fucked. So, so fucked. He’d thought before that he would do anything for Hanzo, but he had no idea of the depths through which he had yet to fall. Which, of course, is when Hanzo reaches up and grasps Genji’s hand, holding it carefully with both of his own, staring at their entwined fingers when he completely undoes Genji.

“And if. If I want you to be more than just my anija?”

Genji freezes, breath caught in his throat. It’s one thing to think your brother wants you, and to admit to yourself that you want him back, that you love him. One thing to know that all the skills and training that let you figure out these things were taught to him first, and better. But in ten thousand years Genji would never have imagined it might be something Hanzo would be willing to ask for. Would ask for. _Is_ asking for.

He feels Hanzo’s fingers sliding against his, pulling away, and realizes suddenly that he’s been struck dumb too long. He tightens his fingers, leaning and grabbing Hanzo’s hands with both of his, and the sudden movement brings Hanzo’s eyes up to his.

“I know you hate this, but please, Hanzo. I need you to say it clearly. Whatever you want I’ll give you, but I need you to tell me.” Genji knows he probably looks desperate, can hear the pleading in his own voice, in the tension of his fingers around Hanzo’s despite his gentle grip. Hanzo tugs again on his hands, but keeps his fingers around Genji’s.

“Come here.”

Genji is tempted to just slide over the counter, but instead he walks the long way around it, extending his arm out and keeping one hand twisted up with Hanzo’s until he’s back within easy reach, coming to rest almost between Hanzo’s spread knees where he sits on the bar stool. Hanzo’s free hand comes up to ghost down Genji’s cheek, and Genji presses the palm to his face, leaning into it.

“Is this what you want, Hanzo?” Both their breathing is shaky, and Genji can feel Hanzo’s pulse pounding through his hands, an echo of his own. Hanzo’s eyes are wide, and a little unfocused, like he’s not sure if he’s dreaming or not. Genji’s sure he looks the same way. Hanzo shakes his head slightly and pulls Genji in slowly.

“Kiss me, anija.”

Genji lets himself be drawn in, and the first brush of his lips against Hanzo’s is like the period at the end of a sentence, one they’ve been writing together unknowingly for years. He pulls both his hands away from Hanzo’s to cup his face instead, sliding one hand back through his hair to help angle Hanzo’s mouth to better suit his, before he presses another kiss to Hanzo’s lips. He keeps it soft and sweet, only darting the tip of his tongue out to flick against Hanzo’s lips every few pecks, until Hanzo whines from deep in his chest and Genji realizes Hanzo’s hands have fisted in his shirt because they suddenly pull him closer.

“Anija, _please_.” And that’s not really a request Genji could refuse even if he wanted to.

He presses closer to Hanzo, leaving off the chaste kisses to pull Hanzo’s bottom lip in between his own and bite at it gently before running his tongue over it, then licking his way into Hanzo’s mouth. He spends long moments learning Hanzo’s mouth, teaching him how to respond, trying to coax Hanzo into exploring his mouth in turn, until Hanzo is forced to pull back to breathe.

He buries his face in Genji’s shoulder and wraps his arms the rest of the way around Genji’s ribs. They’re both panting and a little overheated, but Genji wraps his arms around Hanzo and presses a kiss to the top of his head.

“I’ve got you, Hanzo.” And maybe, for the first time in their lives, he really does.

**Author's Note:**

> Eternal thanks to DirtyHand for the amazing beta, all my cheerreaders for their help, and to Kess for challenging me to write a fic with the prompt of "choke me, anija." I promise that's still coming. >;3
> 
> Title is from Paramore's "crushcrushcrush."
> 
> _Nothing compares to a quiet evening alone_   
>  _Just the one two of us is counting on_   
>  _That never happens, I guess I'm dreaming again_   
>  _Let's be more than this_


End file.
